A Time for Wolves
by Wiza123
Summary: After the mutiny at Craster's keep, none suffer more than the old man's daughter-wives. When the youngest, Thyme, is separated from her only child in the most horrible conditions imaginable, she swears that she will do anything to get her back; even if it means leaving the chill of the north and facing the horrors which wait on the other side of the wall. Jon/OC
1. Prologue: Craster's Keep

**Title: A Time for Wolves**  
**Category: Books » A song of Ice and Fire**  
**Author: Wiza123**

**Language: English**

**Rating: T**  
**Genre: Drama/Romance**  
**Published: 05-22-14**

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_**AN: Hello there! Thanks for dropping by. A**__**fter finishing that 400,000-word Walking Dead fic, I have returned with something fresh. Gotta get out my darker writers side and get the creative juices flowing again. A little taster prologue **_before the fun begins, starting off with Tanner's POV (that crazy SOB that *SPOILERS* Jon Snow stuck through the throat) Enjoy, guys!

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**Prologue:**

**Craster's Keep**

Karl Tanner kicked his boots on the inside of Craster's door as he made his way into the heart of the winter-bound Keep. Snow showered across the floor, and he watched it idly a moment as it began to melt in the heat of the hearth.

They had been four days at the house, and in Tanner's mind, it had been long enough. Lodgings out in the cold, meals made up of molten ice-water and sawdust-thickened bread, and the torture of being a man of the nights' watch- isolated from women since the day he had been forced to take the accursed vows- surrounded by girls. Not the prettiest, nor the brightest, but certainly better than nothing. After so many months without the touch of a female, even the ugliest of Craster's daughter-wives- who Karl was quite sure were the only ones allowed to perform the household chores whilst Mormont and his men were at the Keep- were beginning to look like slices of heaven, drifting around in their grey, sack-like clothes as though to taunt him and all the others. Karl found that he spent a great deal of his time wondering what might be under those grey, sack-like clothes.

The old man kept his better-looking daughters upstairs, their pretty faces and their pretty bodies away from the eyes of the brothers in black. _Miserable old bastard._ Karl had seen one of them when they had first arrived, her head peeking curiously over the balcony. Her face he had not paid much attention to, but her hair had caught his eye- thick and curly, like his own mothers', but in a shade of dark yellow that reflected the light of the fire, casting intricate shadows of orange and red over the coiled ringlets. He had looked up at her and curled his lips fondly; although, as his attempts at smiling usually did, his fondness for her had crept across his face in a malicious smirk.

Tanner had smiled. The girl had shivered.

She was quite young, he saw; he wondered at what age Craster started bedding his girls. Her golden head had disappeared over the balcony, and he had not seen it since.

They all knew that Samwell Tarly had found himself a nice little piece to go around with; pregnant, she was, swollen like a harvest pumpkin and waddling left and right. The two waddled around outside together and Craster had taken no notice of it, too busy watching over the girls who were within the walls of the keep, those pleasing-looking ones up on the second floor where all of the brothers were forbidden to step. _Men do have a habit of keeping their prized possessions closest to them, _Tanner had noted, _especially when it comes to women._

It had been on that fourth day, when Karl was on his way back from hunting down a fox with the others so that they might have something other to eat than the pigswill Craster provided them with, that he had seen the girl with the curly hair again. It was smothered with snowflakes, as though the sky itself was attempting to hide the shimmer of her head from his eyes. It would not succeed, he decided;_ and fuck Craster,_ he thought. He was bored, and she was a curly-headed blonde, so within two quick steps, silent across the crisp snow, he was up beside her whilst she chipped ice from one of the wicker roofs to melt down and use for boiling.

"Shouldn't be out here all on yer own," he advised, using the gauntlets of his shirt to hack off a large chunk of the frozen water for her, more so to grab her attention than to be courteous. She jumped at first, then quietly thanked him for his assistance as he placed the ice in the collection bowl she carried. The girl thanked him quickly, her voice cracked, ducked her neck as though to protect it and headed out towards the hut where the screaming had been emulating; Tarly's brown-haired little bitch was having her child. Karl had half the mind to get in there and pull it out himself if only it would stop the screaming, and then slit both of their lean pink throats for his trouble.

He followed the girl as she approached the tent; like a frightened rabbit she heard his footsteps crunch along the tightly-packed snow leading up to the path and quickened her pace. Not willing to let her out of his grasp so easily he called,

"Can't you shut her up?"

"She's having a baby," the girl replied with a force of annoyance.

"She your sister?" The girl nodded. "What's her name?"

"Gilly."

_Like the weed,_ Tanner thought. He grimaced. "And what's yours?"

The girl stopped, turned briskly. In a sharp, clear tone she told him,

"I'm not supposed to talk to you."

He grinned, edging towards reaching for her arm as she attempted to slip inside the tent. He did so, and the girl stood solid.

"You're taking to me right now," he pointed out.

"I'm very busy. Let go of me, please, Ser."

Tanner laughed a little. "I am no Ser," he rasped, "I was born and bred in Gin Alley-"

"Let go of me, please."

Her forwardness surprised him, and he did let her go; she gave him another quick glare before swishing beyond the heavy curtains of the tent, her ringlets bouncing in her step.

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_**AN: **__****__**I love writing Karl because he's just so evil and haven't seen any other fics with him involved, and I thought this would be an interesting way to introduce our lead character. **__**We shall swiftly be moving south of the wall; if there are any characters you would like to be involved, let me know. **_

_**Thanks for any reads/reviews, guys- hope to see you all again in chapter two!**_


	2. Chapter 1: Mutiny

_**AN: Back again, are we? Glad to see you've stuck around. Let's-a-go!**_

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**Chapter One:**

**Mutiny**

As soon as Karl's knife had pushed its way up through Craster's neck and Mormont had fallen at Rast's hand, chaos had reigned within the wall of the keep. Screaming, crying; some of the man's wives had even taken the courage to take up arms and try their hand at killing the Mutineers. They had quickly been struck back into their place, and the majority of them had been carried off, the venom of battle needing its release in the only way the former bandits knew how.

Karl did not feel that urge, however. His victory was not yet cemented; he could scarcely believe it had happened at all. But this place was his now, and, if they had any sense, his so-called 'brothers' would fall in line behind him and do as he said. Karl took hold of Mormont's body, ruthless bastard that he had been, and dragged it out into the snow. The night was dark, the only sources of light being a tiny fire and the cold white moon reflecting her shine off the damaged snow.

"Few of them have ran off," Rast gruffed as he followed Tanner, not even thinking to ask what he planned on doing with the body of the man; Rast was a large, bearded, miserable-looking fellow who never seemed all too pleased about anything. As Karl dropped the body into the snow, he pulled a face.

"Go and find 'em, then," he instructed, "we don't want none of them lot running to the wall and letting everyone know what we've just done. Our 'brothers' will hack off our heads and parade them 'round on fucking pikes for this."

Rast listened, and he and a few of the others headed out into the forest to find the missing women.

_Right then,_ Karl thought, dumping Mormont's body in the snow and pulling out his hunting knife. As he figured out the logistics of the task before him in his head, he tried his best to drown out the grunts and screams coming from within the walls of the Keep.

"Will you lot shut it?!" He roared, giving the side of the building a quick kick and shaking his head to clear it; as he turned back to the body, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Something which reflected the moonlight, white and shining.

_The Direwolf,_ he thought, and every muscle in his body tensed; Karl braced himself, ready for the wild creature to pounce.

"Come on, then, you big dumb bastard," he growled through bared teeth, watching the edges of the surrounding trees with narrowed eyes. There was no beast to be found; he stepped back, ready to retreat inside and let the wolf have the commander's corpse, but anther glimmer caught his eye; far too high for a Direwolf, but that familiar white glint... only not so white this time, it appeared.

_...Oh. Not a wolf at all,_ Tanner realised with a smirk, advancing upon the tree. _Not a wolf, but a lion._

He snapped his arm around the tree at the girl on the other side, and the girl snapped back. Karl pulled away, cried out in pain; she had sliced him clear across the palm with a serrated blade, most likely a kitchen knife, and was now running from him in the direction of the forest; At first he thought to let the wolves have her, or whatever darker and more dangerous creatures were lurking out there in the Godswood- creatures with skin as cold as the air around them and snow-crusted brows, creatures with teeth and claws and eyes the colour of cracked ice.

But that simply wouldn't do; she had made him bleed, and now he had to return the favour.

He followed her, sharp and silent, and quickly realised that she was not alone; there was another with her, a child, tumbling along on her little legs as the golden-haired girl pulled her with all haste. It did not take him long to catch up with the pair, though he enjoyed the chase; he grabbed the child by the scruff of her neck, and for a moment the older girl seemed scarcely to notice. The second she did she span herself around, but by then it was too late- Tanner had the child by the throat, his hunting blade pressed dangerously against her jugular. She cried out, and so did the other girl.

"That," Karl barked, a triumphant laugh simmering beneath his breath as he tried to regain composure, "was a very, _very _fucking stupid thing to do." The child whimpered; she had the same curls as her sister, only they were white with youth as opposed to rich gold. Tanner tested the knife against her skin, nicking it gently. "You can shut up, you little cunt; you think I haven't sliced the necks of little imps like you before? Oh, I have. Little lords and ladies, paupers and bastards in the streets, I've had dozens and you'll be next on the list if you don't shut that fat little mouth of yours-"

"Please!" The older girl begged, her hands flaying desperately as though in manic prayer, "don't hurt her, don't hurt her!"

"Same goes for you," Tanner barked maliciously, "if you want her to stay alive, you can start by leading the way back. And throw that knife down, 'fore you hurt yourself."

The girl did as she was bidden, then stared around herself, lost in the darkness.

"M-my father's house is that way, I think-"

Karl scoffed beneath his breath. _"My_ house, now. I stuck this knife-" he jiggled the blade against the child's throat- "-through his neck, if you don't remember. Or maybe you were too busy chipping ice to have seen any of that?"

The girl swallowed hard, nodded, and began leading the way back to the Keep. Every few seconds she would check anxiously over her shoulder to be sure that the child was safe, and every few seconds she would receive a threatening smile from the man holding her beneath his blade. Once they reached the Keep, Tanner opened its door and threw the little girl inside. When the older girl tried to follow, he pulled the door shut.

"No, no, you can't leave her in there-!"

"I can do whatever the shitting fuck I please."

"Please, not in there with them-!"

"I suppose you'd prefer if I put her in the cage with the Direwolf, then? He hasn't been fed since that bastard Snow disappeared, I reckon he'd like a good meal."

She froze; he stared up at her, rolled his eyes at her distraught face and said,

"They won't touch her, I shouldn't think. There's plenty of choice in there already."

She slapped him then; he slapped her back, twice as hard, and she would have fallen backwards from the force of it had he not caught her arm in order that he might hit her again. After that he pulled the woman's hands out in front of her as she squirmed, shrieking louder even than some of her sisters' inside, and tied them firmly with a length of rope which was hanging up against the stable door. She struggled more rampantly and he threw her to the ground and tied the end of the rope around a stake in one of the fences; as he did so she noticed the body face-down on the ground and thought at first that it was her father; she screamed, heard a growl from the man holding her down and quickly found his blade at her throat.

"I'll slit your pretty little neck from ear to ear if you don't stop all that whimbrelling," he warned, pushing her back against the fence and sitting the other side of the body. He stared at the girl, mouth slightly open and jaw tense, as he tried to decide what to make of her. She was quiet now, though her ear-piercing cry had set the wolf barking; Karl thought about slitting its throat instead, but found that he could not find enough motivation to move again. Instead he exhaled heavily, eyes still on the girl, and pulled off his overcoat; she felt her stomach tense at the action, and shied away from him.

To her happy surprise, rather than continue to undress, he dragged the body of Lord-Commander Mormont towards himself. There was a little fire burning in an iron-mongered basket beside him, and he moved it between the pair of them so that he might see her better.

"That's pretty hair you've got," he told the girl as she watched in confusion, buffing his blade on the cuff of his undershirt. The cold bit his back and raked at his spine, but he didn't mind too much; it made him feel a little more awake. "Not like your sisters'," he continued, dragging the blade through the I broken snow to clean it, "if there were any other men for a hundred miles I'd have said yer mother had decided she wanted to have a fuck with someone other than her own father, to get you hair like that. One of those posh-bastard Lannisters, maybe."

He smiled wryly to himself. "how do you fancy it?" He offered cruelly; the girl didn't seem to understand. He was all too willing to enlighten her. "Well, you're here, I'm not your father... I could teach you a few things that old man of yours would never have dreamed of."

The girl drew her legs in tighter towards herself, as though that might save her from the man's imagined advances. In the silence, the screams from within the Keep began to echo.

"Looks like they're teaching your sisters in there a thing or two. Your mother, as well, I should think."

"My mother is dead."  
"Well, then, one less person to whimper about."

She shut her eyes tightly as though that might prevent the horrors behind the doors of her home from occurring; with tears streaming down her face she begged the man, "Please make them stop. Please."

Tanner glanced up at her. "And why would I do that?" He knew what her answer would be; he just wanted to hear the poor thing say it.

When she did, her voice cracked.

"...I'll give you anything, do anything you want, _anything,_ please, just make them stop."

Karl eyed her carefully. He let his eyes trail up her body, then back down again; the only thing she had worth giving. After a moment he shook his head and pulled Jeor Mormont's head up onto his lap.

"If I wanted that I'd just take it. At the moment, I'm busy."

Carl stared into Mormont's dead eyes. He had always hated the bossy old bastard... he had thought that just because he was of higher birth than a man brought up in Flea Bottom, because he ate venison with a silver knife and fork rather than bowls of brown with a wooden spoon, he had the right to spit down on the rest of them.

We'll no one spat on Karl Tanner; in a surge of rage he spat into the dead man's cold bluish face. The girl watching shuddered. Karl looked up to her briefly, pointed the knife in her direction and said, "Keep your eyes on this."

He dug his knife into the mans' temple and began to saw at the skin; he pulled back gummy layers of it, stretched out muscle between his coarse fingers, pink and wet like pudding. He hacked at the cartilage, cracked and popped bones, each tiny ivory rod puckering as it snapped in two. With a grimace he screwed out the milky blue eyes, rolled the balls between his fingers so that they became soft and deflated like pig-sacks full of wine.

When he had finished his gruesome endeavour, his hands were bloody and he was left with a smeared skull; he snapped it from its neck, tearing away the last of the pink meat which came with it, and gouged out the brain after a sharp crack of the skull with his iron-capped boot. The golden-haired girl watched in revulsion, bile rising in her mouth; once he was done, Tanner wiped his hands on his trousers and carried the skull towards the half-frozen river.

"Just going to wash this off," he called cheerily; he gestured to the girls bonds and added, "don't you go anywhere."

Whilst he was gone, the girl remembered the old words; _better to die free than to live a slave_. As she pulled and strained against the ropes binding her to the fence, her wrists bleeding from the effort, she wondered whether or not it was true; _yes,_ she realised, after another yelp from inside. The yelp was her sister, Nella; the recognition made her pull even harder, until she was sure that she would break her wrists in the effort to escape.

The man came back a few minutes later with a grin on his face and a freshly-polished skull, white as the snow which had now begun to fall from the sky.

"Father told us you were brothers," the girl said coldly, staring at Mormont's body; she had seen the man come and go countless times over the years, ever since she was a young girl without a name, and now he was dead. She gestured to the skull in Karl's hand. "Is that what you do to your brothers?"

"Gods, no," he replied, giving the skull a merry little shake in his hand. "I did far worse to my brothers."

"You were right," the girl said dryly, not even attempting to look at him. "You are no Ser."

Tanner barely batted an eyelid. He picked his overcoat up from the floor, shook it of the snow and laughed a little under his breath.

"Never said that I was, did I? Now, I've got wine to drink, women to fuck and a hog that needs eating-"

The girl raised her head. "I hope you choke on it."

He glared back at her, his unforgiving brown eyes narrowed against the cold.

Tanner raised an eyebrow; _she was a mouthy little bitch. _The only thing he liked about her was her hair, he decided, and that was hardly a good enough reason to keep her alive, not when there were nineteen other women to pick from behind the doors of the Keep. He crouched down in front of her, took a handful of her curls gently and brushed his fingers across them, tugging on one of the coils so that it sprang back up, the snowflakes dancing off it as it went. He released the handful of satin locks and said,

"Don't want to come inside and join in the festivities, then?"

The girl stared back at him, and then at the skull in his hand.

"I'd rather freeze to death."

Tanner smiled, pulled his knife once more.

"Oh, I think we can do a lot better than that."

He stood and made his way around the back of the keep, to the Direwolf's cage; the beast was sleeping, its unnatural red eyes closed shut, its snow-white chest rising and falling as it dreamt of a good meal. Tanner opened up the cage and nudged the creature with his foot, just enough to rouse the beast.

"Dinner time," he murmured softly, and made his way back to the girl with his hands clenched behind his back. He paused a moment to look back at her; not knowing of the beast he had released upon her, she sat motionless, staring at the now headless body of the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

"Lovely hair," Karl noted again, shaking his head a little as he opened up the door to the Keep. Tanner disappeared inside, whistling beneath his breath as he went.

The girl sat shivering in the snow, pulling still against the rope as the drift began to thicken; the only warmth she found was the blood running down her wrists as she struggled desperately to escape her bonds. Soon her muscles tightened, her movements became more rigid, and she saw that her hands were white at the veins. Her skin began to prickle bluish-purple beneath the rivers of red; she would die soon, she was sure of it. The ice in her veins, the snow swirling in her mind, it was too much for one person to bare.

It was quieter now, she realised. No screaming, no crying; just the hauntingly mirthful sound of half-conscious drunken men slathered over tables, drinking back their own misgivings and howling a strange foreign song in unison that the girl had never heard before. She thought of the little girl she had tried so hard to free from the Keep, and prayed to her Gods that she and all of the others would be safe. She may die tonight, but there was still a chance for her family... what was left of it. And she prayed to the Gods, to the Wierwood tree which sat deep in the forest's heart, that the men who had done this to them would burn

Be safe, be safe, _be safe..._

The girl blinked drowsily, and a red pair of eyes blinked back at her from somewhere in the distance, too far for her to care. The girl closed her eyes, waited for death, and shivered.

_**AN: Ugh, Karl Tanner. You vile little man.**_

_**Our lead girl hasn't officially got a name yet, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know; something related to flowers, me thinks. Still haven't decided whether or not to continue, so if you want more, let me know somehow :D**_

_**All the best,**_

_**Wiza x**_


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